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Scaling New Heights with Rock Climbing

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Scaling New Heights With Rock Climbing

Before I embarked on touching one of those stones on a rock wall, my imagination took me to the space of it being equivalent to courting death. My wild visions visualized my arms straining for a stretch to pull myself up with sheer strength, toes stepping on tiny footholds, veins popping angrily from my temple and arms, teeth gritting tightly as my legs shook and I strenuously climb up a vertical wall. A slip, and I fall in the abyss.

 

Morbid thoughts, I know. It can be super scary for me as a first-timer with no rock wall or bouldering experience whatsoever. Yes, I realise it’s contradicting whenever I tell others that I’m afraid of heights, and yet I have done some basic trekking and hiking in Bhutan, Nepal, Indonesia and Malaysia (Singapore’s humble Bukit Timah Hill at 163.3m too) 😂

 

As I write down this post, I begin to uncover more of the reasons behind my first baby step into picking up rock climbing.

Getting To My Why

“I’m going to sign up for rock climbing!”, my pitch a little higher with a degree of fear as I tell my friends and family. To my amusement, their deadpan faces seem to imply that they have gotten used to my crazy antics when I told them that I signed up out of the blue. You see, the journey started out like a dare to myself.

The point is, putting aside gaining practical skills in climbing, it was a taunt to a part of me to try something a little scarier than what I know, a little different than what I have tried.

Taking the first step to sign up for rock climbing became a personal “project” that seemed impossible but necessary for me. To add a little spice to my journey, I decided to be bold and signed up for the Singapore National Climbing Standards (SNCS) Level 1 certification. Yes, it was my first attempt to enter the realm of rock climbing. After all, most schools (except one instructor that I spoke to shared that I needed to have some basic rock climbing experience) mentioned the only pre-requisite is to be at least 13 years old, and it is suitable for anyone with little or no prior sports climbing experience. Being certainly overly qualified in age and having exactly no sports climbing experience, it offers some assurance that I can register.

There I was, standing in front of the 10 meters rock wall (like a 3-storey building) with an overhang at the top. Truth is, I stared at it like a bewildered caveman who just created fire for the first time.

I was excited but I would be lying if I said I was not afraid. I could feel my shivers as I looked up the wall, the scorching sun peering down from the side of the overhang, almost in a cheeky, sneering manner. It also did not help when my instructor and my fellow batch mates widened their eyes a little when I told them I have zero rock-climbing experience (but there was no pre-requisite!). There, I wondered how I landed myself into an uncomfortable situation, yet again.

Learning to Let Go

As I gradually calmed myself in the process and eased into practising the figure 8 knot tying and belaying techniques, I lifted my foot and stepped onto the first stone for my first climb, ever. Being a novice that I am, I relied heavily on my arm strength and climbed up, but that exhausted me quickly. At the 8 metres point, my arms and shivers gave way, and I fell.

 

My heart skipped a beat. The safety from my fall was completely resting on the fates of the knots being well-tied, the careful checks of the belay beforehand, and the trust in your belayer for having your back, literally. Good thing this allowed my belayer to also practise in catching me.

As I climbed a few more times, somehow, the more I fell from the top, the more I got used to the flow of letting go completely.

A fall can be unpredictable within a narrow window of time. Even mastering a proper fall takes skill. Falling safely away from the wall, the signal you need to give to your belayer, choosing which part of the wall to fall, and relaxing your body as you fall. Soon, you will realise that falling is part and parcel of rock climbing.

The point became not in facing the fear of falling, but in pushing myself to my edge so I can summit, or fall and try again.

Getting Back Up

Contrary to what I thought was just having pure brute force needed to scale up, climbing actually comprises of graceful movements with each step epitomizing an intended purpose.

 

The outcome is certainly to get to the top of the wall, but I soon realise, even as I fall (many times) mid-scale, I gradually redefined my desired outcome to be able to touch one rock after another, and stretching that inch above the previous step. That became the real satisfaction for me. Each placement of the rock is deliberate, with varying difficulties that force you to contort, bend, and stretch in a sequence of movements, like a dance choreography as you glide into the flow of the climb. Your breathing becomes the background music mid-air.

 

Slowly, bit by bit, you figure out a sequence of moves that get you through. Each time you fall and pick yourself up, you gain an imprint to learn the holds, the moves, where to tense and when to relax for a moment. You train your body and brainwork, until one day, it all comes together and you gather your rhythm to dance your way up that wall.

Playing A Game to Overcome Unnecessary Obstacles

Dancing and climbing with a rock wall

As I gradually throw myself out there onto the wall, scaling and falling, scaling and falling, what appeared to be mammoth in the heights of the wall became fun, like a game in solving this puzzle in front of you.

 

Bernard Suits wrote in his book, The Grasshopper: Games, Life, and Utopia, “Playing a game is a voluntary attempt to overcome unnecessary obstacles.” Do I HAVE to climb a wall? No. Do I HAVE to take up rock climbing? Not really. I learnt that this project soon became a little more than just about scaling a physical wall or facing my fear of heights.

It is about immersing in a dance with myself and a static wall that seem to taunt me to do better. It is about pushing what is impossible in your current reality.

The beauty of this sport is that no matter how amateur or good you get, you can always find a way to stretch yourself. I became hooked to this sheer sense of triumph, perhaps of the hormone, Dopamine, hitting me. The chemical agent that gives a good feeling, and for me from winning an event, a challenge I set myself for, a tease within myself to explore “what if”. This sport became an epitome of pushing not just my physical limits, but it expanded my mental capacity and welcomed me with open arms as I stepped out of my comfort zone.

Climbing to New Places

SNCS Level 1 Certificate Rock Climbing

I grabbed my SNCS level 1 certificate on the same day I climbed for the first time. While the fear dissipates the more I dived into the experience, it is still a lingering feeling to egg me towards being more comfortable in discomfort zones. As my feet dangles from a height on the wall, each step is edging me towards a new path of building up my mountaineering journey. Above it all, a footing towards new places in life.

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Dark Tourism: What Visiting North Korea Is Really Like

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Kim Il sung and family North Korea
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Dark Tourism:
What Visiting North Korea Is Really Like

Visiting a controversial destination invites controversial reactions. Yet, that is exactly what most people chase after. My solo visit to North Korea after exploring Beijing was nothing short of an eye-opening experience, although I did leave the place with a mix bag of emotions that’s hard to describe. Surprised, humbled, upset, grateful, puzzled. They are a concoction that seem to be exclusively blended for the destination.

Dark tourism seems to attract a rising demand among intrepid tourists who want to venture into the less seen, brushing past the edge of danger, and peek into the outlier of the norm. When I first informed my friends and family that I want to visit the home country of Kim Jong Un, their faces froze, before exploding into laughter on the joke that I just cracked. Except, I was serious! I blame my extra time that when I couldn’t sleep at 2am one day, sitting in front of my computer at 2am, and thought where my next solo trip should be. Browsing through pictures of friends’ travel to South Korea on Facebook, I thought, What if I were to visit North Korea instead?

My fingers began tapping the keys for North Korea curiously on my keyboard. There it was on screen. Book a tour to North Korea. My jaw dropped. My heart began to itch. And off I went.

Here’s a glimpse into what you need to know about visiting the hermit kingdom.

War museum north korea

Making Your Way to North Korea

Visiting to North Korea is actually not as difficult as it may seem (NOTE: North Korea travel may be difficult right now in light of the current global Covid-19 epidemic). You can sign up for an organized tour by the limited number of travel agencies offering travel experiences there, which is the only way for entry. The tour will start and end in Beijing, and you will need to apply for your visa requirements via the tour agency prior to your journey.

The tours will typically take you on a very strict itinerary around mainly Pyongyang, but also offer extension to places such as the DMZ, Sinuiju or Mount Myohyang. There are two options to transport you from Beijing into North Korea. One is via North Korea’s national flag carrier, Air Koryo, rated by Skytrax as the world’s only 1 star airline. The rating by customers were based on strange but interesting experiences of listening to propaganda marching music and reading Pyongyang Times on flight, or recounts of being served a “mystery meat burger”.  The other is taking an overnight train from Beijing to Dandong (a city on the border of China and Korea) and then another train from Dandong to Pyongyang – a pretty strenuous 24 hour sleeper ride.

I dipped my finger into the air, and opted for the overnight train in, and flight out for the full experience. To be honest, I was imagining various kinds of morbid thoughts regarding the safety of the aircraft. The fear is probably unfounded, with the carrier having a safety rating of *5 out of 7 (see article here).

And off I go. Entering into Democratic Republic of Korea (DPRK) for the next 10 days.

Travel Visa to North Korea

Train In, Experience Out

It was my first experience riding an overnight train, and it certainly wasn’t pleasant in enduring more than 20 hours of second-hand smoke in the cabin. I vividly remember I only had a tiny window of about 30 minutes of respite in inhaling some fresh air when there was no one smoking. That said, the train experience was nothing short of memorable as the train passed by tall skyscrapers of China and the view gradually transited into smaller, more outdated apartment buildings and soviet factories.

It felt like I was transported back in time into the 1950s, a real time teleportation of a future me into a past. Most of all, with ample time in the tiny cabins, the initially distant few of us, the Ukranians, Americans, a German, Russians and a tiny Singaporean in the tour group soon belt out our game cards, beer and snacks.

It’s like an invisible travelling glue that binds us through our stories and laughter. There, new friendship bonds were forged.

As the train pulled into the Sino-Korean border, it halted. Soon, we heard heavy footsteps and our tour guide informed that there was going to be a property check by the North Korean officers. I gasp a little and it was unnerving as I wondered how the search process is going to be. Contrary to popular belief, handphones and cameras are actually allowed.

Quick, hide your pictures in folders or store it somewhere else. I heard a fellow traveler said. That got me paranoid. Soon, the officers stepped into my cabin. One of them would request and conduct random browsing of our devices one by one. What they were exactly looking for, I’m not entirely sure, but they would minimally scan for any South Korean pictures, foreign journal articles, or religious texts, just to name a few. They would also check for any drones, telephoto lens, and GPS devices which were disallowed. That’s right, there’s no data roaming or wifi available.

I held my breath as I surrendered my camera and handphone. A few nerve wrecking minutes later, my worries were appeased as they did not raise any questions.

Stepping foot into DPRK

I chatted with two Ukranians who shared that they were bloggers in their country. I felt somewhat anxious for them, wondering if their pictures might be found and misinterpreted as journalism in the country.

 

The train finally pulled into Pyongyang and slowed to a halt. The chattering died down when our eyes were greeted with splotches of darkness. Is this the capital? It’s really dark. We made it in. Few windows were lit while most seemed unoccupied in housing buildings which reminded me of a HDB in Singapore. Will it be like The Interview? We giggled. Pictures of fake fruits and cupboard shops from the movie flashed across my mind.

We were greeted by two smiley DPRK tour guides, who collected our passports “for security reasons”. I handed over without a second thought, but realized soon after that the passport was not to be returned to us until the end of the tour

We boarded a tour bus and headed to Yanggakdo International Hotel, that has a 4-star rating. One person commented, “Hey guys, guess what. You do realise there is no level 5 in our hotel right?” His voice trailed off into silence. My eyes skimmed through twice over the elevator buttons. This was the hotel that the American tourist died after being caught stealing a slogan at the forbidden and secretive level 5. Recalling this now sent chills down my spine.

Entering the lobby, it almost felt something was amiss. I was subconsciously comparing with other 4/ 5 star hotels and felt the architecture pretty dated but with a facade to upkeep the quality, to a certain extent.

Our Korean guides gave instructions that we were not to exit the hotel without explicitly informing them. We listened intently, being seeming careful to take in instructions. I wondered what went into our minds of the fellow travellers. At the back of my mind, my paranoia paved my imagination of all kinds of consequences for us and the guides if we don’t follow them.

Our tour guide then brought us around the hotel facilities and we explored the recreation centre at the basement. The eyes adjusted to the dimmer lighting towards a longer tunnel. That was the spot where there’s bowling, swimming pool, a table tennis corner, and a beauty parlor, to name a few. It did look like a bomb shelter and felt odd with the dated signages.

What’s interesting for me was browsing their grocery items like their local food and beverages, and a book shop that sells reads surrounding their ex-leaders Kim Il Sung and Kim Jong Il. And it comes in French language too!

A group of us retired to a café at the hotel lobby to grab some drinks and marveled with disbelief that we actually are in DPRK.

The DMZ and Joint Security Area (JSA)

I tingled with excitement as I was about to step into the DMZ. We are allowed to take videos and photos, but just not military personnel. In fact, this applied throughout the entire trip, including taking direct photos of the locals (although I did sneak quite a few pictures in  Some risks there I suppose!).

The atmosphere was filled with curiosity and tension. Like entering a secret chamber that was locked unless someone lets you in.

A very thin line separates North and South Korea. If you look closely at the picture, any area up to the concrete pavement belongs to North Korea, while the gravel pavement towards the background would be South Korea. At that point, my face conjured a frown and smile simultaneously as I stood at the North Korean side.

I captured a picture with a DPRK General, who shared that he has been guarding the border for most of his life. I never thought I would see this after only hearing from my history books.

We entered Kaesong City, at the North Hwanghae Province thereafter. Traditional Korean buildings lay the area. There, we tried our hand at traditional Korean Pansangi lunch – a series of dishes served in bronze bowls. Our Korean guides explained that the more the number of dishes served, the more highly regarded the guests are. Service was polite as we were treated like VIPs with 11 dishes served. After our meal, we were asked if we wanted to top up EUR5 for a special meat soup. I almost raised my hands until I found out it was dog meat. My face grimaced a little as a couple of us in the tour group had their soups served.

Stepping out of the restaurant, the entourage head to Sariwon City (Capital of North Hwanghae Province) to walk in the local folkcustom park. I was lucky to witness a local marriage photoshoot, the bride in the traditional hanbok, and the groom in a military uniform. I was fascinated and couldn’t take my eyes off the local proceedings. The air lifted to be lighter and blissful.

Pyongyang Metro

This was probably one of the most iconic places to visit in DRPK. Riding down the 110 metres escalator build up my excitement as we close in to the entrance of the metro station. It’s probably one of the grandest metro stations I have ever seen, with DRPK traditional propaganda wall art and mosaic pictures laid both sides of the walls.

Is it functioning and real? Well, yes it is! It’s used by the locals for transport and it also doubles up as a bomb shelter. We boarded the metro to ride two stations. The train was rustic with wooden panels laying most of its interiors.

Mosaic tiles wall mural North Korea Metro
Inside North Korea Metro
Local inside North Korea Metro Train

School Children’s Palace, Amusement park

That’s right. These are part of our itinerary. At the School Children Palace we learnt about after school childcare and the education system in DPRK. We then caught a performance where children lined up in a single line, neat and choreographed.

School children palace north korea
School children performing at School children palace

I was actually enthralled that North Korea had a full functioning amusement park. This was a chance where we could interact with the locals and get some rides. I took on the bumper car ride and almost forgot that I was within seemingly watchful grounds. Here, the atmosphere was different. I felt like a child again. The locals were curious and equally fascinated by foreigners. I felt weird being invited by a family to take a photo, not because I was shy, but because they found a tourist interesting in their extremely shy nature.

Their warmth began to shift my perspective of what I thought about the locals living in their own country.

Amusement park in north korea
Curious children at amusement park in north korea

Hero Worship in North Korea

Our guide spoke with a serious tone that the leaders of DRPK are revered like gods and legends and must be shown utmost respect in every way. The trip is not complete without chaperoning you to the sites they want you to see.

Monument of Party Founding North Korea

The Monument to Party Founding

Made up of a massive granite hammer, the monument was built on instruction of Kim Jong Il and it’s a symbol of the Workers Party of Korea, the ruling part of North Korea. The hammer and sickle represent the worker and farmers, while the calligraphy brush represents the intellectual class. 

It reads “The Organisers of the victory of the Korean people and the leader of the Workers Party of Korea!” Fun fact? The circular belt is exactly 42 metres to coincide with the birth date of Kim Jong Il who was born in 16 Feb 1942.

Monument to Three Charters of National Reunification

The white granite monument depicts two women wearing traditional Korean Hanbok, upholding an emblem to depict three principles of independence, peaceful reunification and national unity.

Arch of Triumph North Korea

Arch of Triumph

This was a huge, impressive monument which was built in 1952 to commemorate the Korean resistance to Japan.

Controversial sites as Tourist Spots​

I isolated a few spots as more provocative than others. These places left me feeling bewildered and I don’t think I can ever fully integrate or make sense for these visits.

Kumsusan Palace of the Sun

This is probably one of the more controversial sites for the entire trip. The grandiose building is revered as the most sacred placed in DRPK, a mausoleum where Kim Il Sung and Kim Jong Il’s bodies lie in state. I honestly was not expecting this, but went in the state of flow of what else could be thrown in my path. We were informed to leave all our belonings behind and go into empty handed. We also had to keep silent, not converse, not put our hands in our pockets, and are restricted to take any photographs in the space. We lined up neatly in a row and entered. DPRK soldiers in high leather boots standing perfectly straight guarded the Palace. Once inside the building, we had to clean our shoes in a shoe sole cleaning machine.

As we visited the caskets where the leaders were placed, our Korean guides would whisper to guide us along and explain when they passed away. A guard stood vigilant in guarding them. My heartbeat quickened in the silent room, wary of my every move.

We were then taken to other rooms where they were plastered with medals, crowns, awards and gifts given by other world leaders to the North Korean leaders.

As I exited the building, I had to take a moment to absorb the outdoors to settle down and integrate what I just experienced.

It was strangely morbid, peppered with a tinge of indescribable fascination.

Victorious Fatherland Liberation War Museum

This was a controversial site where we caught streams of videos about the Korean War, the propaganda message loud and clear in conveying the “evilness, stupidity, and ignorance of the US imperialists”. Needless to say, Kim Il Sung and Kim Jong Il were hailed to be “great leaders who defended and protected the country”.

I remembered I was very disturbed and my hair stood when a wax figure of an American soldier had a crow perched on his left shoulder, his face furious, with an ominous smile. The captured US spy ship USS Pueblo was also displayed with pride to show the prowess of the North Korean army.

I wondered what did I sign up for.

Mansudae Grand Monument ​ North Korea

Mansudae Grand Monument

I count my lucky stars that I was not called to attention for breaching any rule on taking selfie. Over here, visitors can buy flowers for EUR2 for a small bouquet to pay tribute to two 22 metres tall bronze statues of Kim Il Sung and Kim Jong Il.

I wasn’t sure how compliant we must be but didn’t think it was appropriate for me to bow to the statues of the North Korean leaders. I was on edge but loitered mindlessly in the vicinity to snap pictures of the surroundings. A fellow traveler joined me for photos. And there I was. Bold. Surreal.

It felt a simple act like this seem to be playing with fire unknowingly. It’s like living on the edge without really knowing why.

A Peek into Real Life in North Korea

Life in North Korea

Over the next few days, I was half waiting for the sky to crack, the backdrop on the wallpaper to peel or a cameraman to yell ‘cut’. Nope, no such luck. The locals perched on the widely hand planted agricultural fields would occasionally flash a smile and wave at the foreigners sitting in the tour bus.

Other times, we were greeted with curious stares like we were aliens, aliens who were equally, if not more intrigued by them, except that we were aiming a noisy box at them that furiously goes click click click. As the bus drives by awfully clean streets, the guides introduced a dolphinarium and water park as other attractions on the roads.

The familiar had never seemed so oddly bizzare and normal at the same time.

Political agenda aside, where there are opportunities to get up close and personal in interacting with them, you realise that North Koreans are some of the shyest, earnest, and down-to-earth people I have ever met. It almost felt like my guard was let down a lot more than their guard should be up for a foreigner like me. Looking at their eyes, you wonder if there is a sparkle that whispers, Simple Joy or Suppressed Fear. You ponder if that might be your own projection.

Playing soccer with school children at north korea
playing hide and seek with children in north korea
Store Seller at North Korea

Meanwhile, over a few banchan and a bowl of cold noodles for dinner, our group debated. “Are the people truly happy?” Afterall, they exude immense pride, raving about their supreme leaders’ efforts for attempted unification and development of the country. It may be hard to refute as a foreigner who was brought through countless medals, certificates and honours enhibited across the grand halls, most titling, “Humanitarian efforts” and “Peacekeeping efforts” that were bestowed upon their leaders.

Will the people be happier if they have more freedom? What defines true happiness and freedom anyway?

With our tummy stuffed with kimchi and a mysterious broth, perhaps the answer may come by with another beer on hand. I recounted my experience as I spent the last night at DPRK.

Perhaps, it’s the simplicity of human connection that the locals grasped in their understanding that we may not yet have caught up on.

Skyline of North Korea

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6 Lessons My First Marathon Taught Me

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6 Lessons My First Marathon Taught Me

You can say it started off with an existential crisis mode. I wanted to end my year with a loud bang and do something memorable, something that’s life changing and imprinted in me for a long time. The bang has to be DEAFENING. I was crazy to not just sign up for my first ever overseas hike at Everest Base Camp, but I also completed my first 42km full marathon, a week later right after I returned.

Training for my first marathon made me realise a lot more than just the huff and puff of running. It taught me about myself that I didn’t know and recreated a different being.

Here are the 6 life lessons I gleaned from my first marathon experience.

1. Set your sights on the end point

My alarm rang at 4.45am. The eyelids were heavy and there was an inner groan that sounded like a mix of asking why and cursing at the same time. I tapped on my phone to silent the alarm, my spirit pulled me awake. This was one of the 6 alarms I would have to deal with for the week that each morning I woke up for my training.

Not going to lie, some days I wondered why I tortured myself by signing up a long hike and a full marathon back-to-back. Every now and then, a floating thought will hover over my head “just quit, it’s ok to not push this hard”. Afterall, the furthest I have ever ran was only 5km, and there were plenty of advice out there on not pushing too hard and to “listen to our bodies”.

Well, I did listen to my body. It just had a different voice. As it picked itself up out of bed, its voice echoed in my heart chamber. What did you hope to see about yourself after the marathon? My eyes widened as I brushed my teeth. I reflected on my answer while dazing in the mirror. I dreamed of accomplishing something that was not done before. Something that is challenging. Something that seems impossible, but it can be done. That’s it. I suddenly heard crowd cheers ringing in my ears. The image of me crossing the finishing line with pride in slow motion. The eye for the prize. It’s the knowing that’s it’s ok to set big goals. The feeling of a feat fulfilled. And so I pushed on the personal quest, my personal promise, that voice not be dismissed that easily.

2. Plan, Adjust, Do

To reach some destinations, a plan is necessary. Particularly when I didn’t have any experience in long-distance running before that (cray cray, I know). I researched on a running plan, set out my schedule, and let my discipline take me forward in following through the distances I have to clock each day. Not forgetting, deliberately factoring a rest day in that week is much needed, particularly when I’m pushing my body to its limits that I have not stretched before.

The plan has to be realistic and flexible, especially since I was juggling with the unpredictable schedule of my professional career. On days when I could not run in the morning, I would run after work. Ultimately, it ties back to my end goal for the week, the month, and my full marathon.

Needless to say, you can also have the perfect plan on what you set out to do, but there are elements that may throw a surprise at you, say weather changes. Focus on what you can control, adapt your schedule, and then move forward towards your goal.

3. Keeping up with your constant

Consistency is key. A marathon by its nature is a long haul process that one has to go through. From sustaining your stamina in months of training to pushing through the actual long run, particularly the last mile which somehow poses an extra challenging feat to cross, there’s little room to let go and fall back into what was before. The new constant was to wake up, rinse, repeat. It creates the necessary momentum needed to inch closer to the goal.

With each constant, each step, each kilometre that I continued to take, I build my small wins up for a bigger win. This creates a positive feedback loop necessary for me to reap the positive effects of what’s going right. While it may not seem apparent, it ultimately creates a behavioural or habitual change in me.

4. Don’t let self-doubt distract you

Running a marathon will take an immense amount of mental and physical energy to push through. I found it’s essential to have an attitude of perseverance and being willing to put in the hard work.

Yes, easier said than done. Especially during days when you want to fling your alarm clock or phone out of the window after some late nights the day before. I wish it was as simple as a machine being fed with an ingredient called doubt and spitting out perseverance for us to eat.

Then I realised metaphorically, my body, mind, and spirit are parts of a machine. It’s simply called ME. I’m feeding doubt and holding myself hostage even before the race started. I empowered the doubts and internal barriers more than what I have actually accomplished. And so I reflected. Week 1, I had hit simpler goals of 3km, second week, completing 5km, and third week in, my 8km was done. By the time I was training into my 10th week, I had run 22km, a little more than half a marathon in distance.

“I rode the momentum of what I had accomplished, one step at a time. Then I realise, those self-doubts are unfounded.”

I learnt that my resilience starts even before I ran the race. It’s about keeping my focus on the end point and holding on to the intention so tightly regarding what you set out to do. Every distraction, every doubt that seeps in, needs to be brought into awareness and not let it steer you away from your path.

5. Celebrate small wins

As I gradually adapted to my new constant, I found new discovery as the distance increased. Not just in the mileage attained, but in becoming more present to the environment around me. Waking up before the run rises exposed me to the silence of the twilight. The in-between transition of night and day. Crickets call. Dew drops falling on my arms. Hearing my footsteps as the loudest noise in the quietness of the neighbourhood. That ambience and the emotional attachment to the serenity were addictive. Soon, I grew to look forward to this stillness. Somehow, the external world transcended and seeped within my inner being to getting attached to that state.

“In that moment, I embraced the vacuum of my own transition.”

Progressively, I would complete each milestone week after week. Learning about improvising my running form to my running shoes to my sustenance during the run. The reward was increasing my productivity, becoming more energised (surprisingly), and attaining a fat loss to boot. My reward? Going for a much needed massage or simply slurping a nice cup of my bubble tea (yes, with less sugar) for a major milestone attained (e.g. on my 22km, 30km, and 42km mark).

Till today, I realised I have transformed from a person who wakes up at 10am to a morning birdie. Always looking forward to catching the worm. The process taught me how I’m much more resilient than what I gave myself credit for.

6. Embrace the Process

Truth is, I was already limping at just the 8km mark on race day. Somehow, my knee chose to scream a sharp pain on that day and none during training. It was excruciating and I met the breaking point where I was seriously contemplating whether to pause and call it quits. The dilemma of listening to my body versus throwing my target and months of training away was a struggle. Thankfully, the pain dissipated as I slowed down, and the encouraging voice within me echoed to take it easy, and I paced myself as I observe my condition. Before I knew it, with each small stride, I reached the 25km mark. By then, my legs were experiencing fatigue, my spirit beaten. This was at the absolute point where throwing in the towel was super tempting. I ground to a snail pace of simply walking while wincing in pain. The pain gradually reduced. Each step in this last 5km felt therapeutic. It gave flashbacks of my entire training process, my decision, my insanity. When I straightened my focus and finally crossed the finishing line, my body exploded into an overwhelming sense of triumph. The cheers from the crowd werer muffled. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I had goosebumps. I did it. Finally. As I caught my breath and took in the surroundings, there was a sense of soothing comfort that washed over me. I realised, it was less of crossing the end of the race, but more of the entire process I pushed myself through for many moments that I told myself I couldn’t do it, and then I did.

“Believe in yourself and all that you are. Know that there is something inside you that is greater than any obstacle.”

– Christian D. Larson

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Scaling Above and Beyond Everest Base Camp Trek Within 14 days On My Birthday

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Scaling Above and Beyond Everest Base Camp Trek Within 14 days On My Birthday

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Scaling Above and Beyond Everest Base Camp Trek Within 14 days On My Birthday

I have a confession to make. It was only when I was about fly out from Singapore’s Changi Airport to embark on my first solo hiking trip overseas, then I started realise how crazy I was.

Rewind to where it all began. I was scrolling through a few YouTube videos of stunning mountains scapes and listened to random travellers hype about their awe-inspiring experience on conquering the mountains. Before I knew it, I was stuck at a video admiring a traveller who trekked Everest Base Camp (EBC). Tears were welling in my eyes and there were goosebumps on my skin. Somehow, a question sneakily popped on my right shoulder (also probably because I was staring outside the window to my right),

“What if I’m right there experiencing this right now?”

Truth is, I don’t have any hiking, trekking, rock climbing, bouldering experience whatsoever. The only training I had was long runs leading up to my first marathon, which I signed up for right after my trek (I WAS that crazy). Heck, I didn’t even train at Singapore’s tallest Bukit Timah Hill at 163.23 metres (yup that’s the highest point)! It was a f*** it, I want to there right now! thought.

Next thing I knew, I grew increasingly obsessed in reading one article after another about EBC. I was immersed and becoming increasing obsessed about what the trekkers prepare and train. Next I knew, bam! I signed up for the Everest Base Camp trek (5364 metres). As if that wasn’t enough, I customised my trip to include Gokyo Lakes (5,330 metres), and the Kalapathar trek (5,545 metres). Well, what could possibly go wrong? (ha! read on)

And…Bam! I was next on my flight out to Kathmandu. Air ticket in my hand. Carrying a backpack almost half my weight and almost half of my height. Off I went. Solo.

Watch My Solo Quest to Everest Base Camp Video

Landing at Lukla Airport (2,860m)

everest-base-camp-trek-map

To get to Everest Base Camp, you would need to fly 30 minutes from Kathmandu into Lukla Airport, one of the most dangerous airports in the world. Deadly, because based on past 10 years data since 2011, at least 20 people died in a Lukla plane clash due to poor visibility from changing weather conditions (see article here).

Lukla is a remote location perched atop a mountain at 2,860 metres above sea-level, surrounded by the foothills of the Himalayas, and with its limited area. This contributed to the airport’s runway having to be built on top of a small cliff. The runway of Lukla Airport is 527 metres long and 30 metres wide, making it one of the shortest runways out there. This means that if the aircraft came in too fast, it would hit the mountain and if it is too slow, it would hit the cliff before it landed, which is why it is only accessible via helicopters and small aircraft.

I got a travel agent to sort out my flight in Thamel and bought a round trip ticket (about SGD400. One-way trip about SGD600).

In the sea of travellers at the airport, you will get your bag and yourself weighed, well, at the small check-in stands (not counters!). My flight got delayed by 2 hours, which is common as it depends on weather conditions. Then, you wait for flight to be called. A forty minutes ride awaits.

Capturing the brave souls about to land at Lukla Airport. When landing, the pilot may or may not cut the engine. If pilot does cut it, don’t worry! It is to be able to slow down quickly to land. Mine did. And there I was, in moments of quietness when the air seem to still suddenly, the plane began to close in on the runway.

On hindsight, I was actually more inspired to see the steadiness of a female co-pilot flying the plane than noticing how dangerous the terrain was on landing 😅

The Beginning

Instead of going up and down down the same way on EBC, I decided to detour to Gokyo Ri and Kalapathar, which takes 3 extra days before heading back to Namche Bazar, Lukla, and eventually Kathmandu. In total, it would take me 14 days.

You will trek along Dudh Kosi River to the Sherpa capital of Namche Bazaar at 3,867 metres, before heading up to Dingboche (4,260 metres), Lobuche (4,930 metres), Gorakshep (5,140 metres), and eventually to Everest Base Camp (5,364 metres) all in a span of 7-8 days.

It was the big bang experience I set up for myself at age 29. Somehow, it was the best reason to convince myself that I am still young at heart before I hit my big 3-0 and there’s no better reason than to do something crazy like trekking to Everest Base Camp solo.

Day 1: Lukla to Phakding

Opening Doors To A New World

This was mainly on flatter plains and it’s enjoyable as my eyes feasted on all the sights they were dying to see. It was beautiful everywhere I look. Probably, a mind’s trick to boost your confidence before heading to Namche Bazaar next.

Being the trekking noob that I was and afraid of the cold (I’m a Singaporean who lives near the equator! ), I started off confidently wrapped in 4 layers of clothes with a thermal base layer, a trekking shirt, sweater, and waterproof jacket. Eager and ready to conquer the mountains. Seasoned trekkers walked past me with a polite smile. Now I realise how nice they really were, because I started to peel off my sweater and waterproof jacket within first 5 minutes of walk.

Suspension bridge

I love the suspension bridges that connected cliff to cliff. The colourful flags flapping against the wind, waving hi to outsiders who visited the majestic plains. Fellow travellers cross bridges and the path you take, including donkeys and yaks. I came to learn that trekkers have to give way to them, stay on the side of mountains and let them cross first! As an outsider, it’s fascinating to observe, but it can actually be dangerous when the goods they carry can easily knock into you when you are unaware.

Day 2: Phakding to Namche Bazar (3,440m)

The Challenge Begins

The start of the uphills. Reality starts to set in when the uphills don’t really pause much anymore. Hiking stretched to about 8 hours, and I was amazed at how some hikers can brisk walk so fast. I paced myself to manage my breathing. With an increasingly steeper climb, the emergence of the double suspension bridges called Hillary Bridge (named after Edmund Hillary) were a sight to behold.

Scrambling up the hill in the last 2-3 hours, I finally rested my eyes on the sights of Namche Bazaar. It was a sloping hill with the main shops set up as a rest stop. As you enter the village, the noise level increases, with higher traffic of people to and fro. Such a contrast to the quieter hills the day before. Soon, you are greeted with merchants selling knock off winter wear, hair salons and eateries. I smiled and sighed a relief for conquering the day.

Day 3: Acclimatisation at Namche Bazaar

First Glance at Peaks

My Sherpa was my guardian angel named Ram. He kept a watchful eye on my diet and well-being throughout the entire trip. Most of all, he had SAVED my life more than once in this journey (more on that later). At Namche, he gave me an option to do an acclimatisation hike or rest for the day. The adventurous side in me called to run for the hills, literally. I beamed like a giggly schoolgirl and the yes-ness beckoned Ram to set off together.

We headed up to the Sherpa Museum, and there, Tenzing Norgay (the first of the two people to summit Mount Everest in 1953) greeted me. In his statue form, of course. We then headed up slowly to the peak of Namche. Each breath getting increasingly slower, as I ascended. Even saying hello to fellow trekkers needed some moments for me to inhale before I could blurt out a word.

To be honest, there were thoughts of whether I should take Diamox (high altitude meds I prepared), which one should intake daily before scaling the rest of the heights. Somehow, I chose not to take any as I wanted to see how far I can push myself. In my research, I learnt that there can be severe AMS (Acute Mountain Sickness) or worst HAPE (high-altitude pulmonary edema) where your lungs accumulate fluid over time and lead to respiratory system failure and death.

Come to think of it, it IS a gamble considering I wouldn’t know what can happen in the next days ahead.

And then, there I was. Hitting the top of Namche Bazaar at 3,880 metres. Standing opposite me was the majestic Kangtega at 6,782 metres. It was absolutely stunning. I couldn’t take my eyes off it and stayed in that spot for what seemed like FOREVER. I realised after sometime, that I was the only one of the trekkers I met along the ascension to reach the top.

Day 4: Namche to Tengboche (3,870m)

A Glimpse Into Danger

Reality sets in even more. I woke up energised, kicked the door down from the hut, raring to go (kidding, the huts were too sturdy for a petite girl like me to inflict any dent. Plus, I wouldn’t want to risk injuring my toes). Turns out, the upbeat energy was very much needed, before the rest of the uphills and downhills, and even more winding paths greeted me.

This took a turn further, when I witnessed a commotion near the edge of a cliff. Passerbys were gasping. A Sherpa was slowly releasing a rope down the cliff and asking people to move along. I realised, a trekker had slipped off the cliff and a rescue mission was in motion. I felt goosebumps and started asking myself what exactly did I sign up for? Doubt started to set in.

Alas, we reached Tengboche, home to Tenzing Norgay. Here, you could see a panoramic view of all the top boys, Tawache (6,495m), Everest (8,848m), Nuptse (7,861m), Lhotse (8,516m), Ama Dablam (6,170m), and Thamserku (6,608m).

Day 5: Tengboche to Dingboche (4,360m)

Catching My Breath

A respite from the past few days, this was one of the shortest hike of the entire journey. Every now and then, you would hear the helicopter flying past and you wonder if there might be another rescue mission going on. Under my breath, I would pray that none of that would happen to anyone. I tried convincing myself that it could just be a regular scouting in the area.

After crossing a couple of shorter suspension bridges and soaking in the beautiful sights on a downhill, it was a nice touch of familiarity seeing a bakery in Dingboche. As tempting as it was, I didn’t grab any cakes or desserts to avoid any risk of sickness. In fact, I avoided meat in all my meals as I read that the conditions to store them could vary. Afterall, I am a city girl who only saw meat being stored in a frozen box called refrigerators. And yes, there were not many refrigerators you would see around.

Day 6: Acclimatisation at Dingboche

A Deep Connection

Being the restless soul that I am, I headed out again with Ram to absorb all the awe the mountains offered. Nuptse (7,861 metres) stood tall as my backdrop when I hiked 2-3 hours to the top of Namgkartshang peak (5,083 metres). The spectacular vista of the glaciers was enchanting.

The body was also gradually getting used to the drills of taking in deeper breaths and gradual climbs. I learnt that the oxygen levels reduce to 70% at the high altitude above 3,000 metres and up to 60% in Dingboche. I count my lucky stars that I don’t have AMS each morning I woke up.

In the evening, I shivered from the cold after the sun sets and cozied up near the furnace in the teahouse with 4 layers of clothes on. What’s beautiful in this journey was simply basking in the atmosphere of Sherpas, fellow travellers, sharing our stories and journeys.

“It felt magical, that the world connected on a different level in that instant. Strangers like family, bonded by the DNA of exploration and adventures.”

A fellow hiker sat beside me. She was a mother of two and soon we were exchanging our experiences. I was wide-eyed with surprise when I found out she was also a Singaporean who attained her citizenship years ago (truthfully, she didn’t have our iconic Singaporean accent, so I couldn’t tell!). We continued our conversations over dinner, and we started chatting with an American lady, who was in the US forces and served in Iraq before. Soon, I was joined by other hikers from various backgrounds, and in that moment, we exchanged life stories. It’s fascinating how we are all drawn to this singular moment at the dinner table.

There I realised that I was warmed not just by the fire, but the natural camaraderie that hikers bring in this part of the world.

Day 7: Dingboche to Loubuche (4,940m)

A Poignant Reminder

The three of us decided to climb together towards EBC. We are closing in on the final two days to the summit. We took lunch at Dukla and ascended to the memorial for fallen climbers of Everest who lost their lives. Triangular stacks of stones with colourful prayer flags dawn on them to pay tribute to their journeys. The atmosphere was still and sombre as you enter the area. I was filled with respect and admiration of their courage to embark on a journey of their lifetime. This included visiting the memorial of Scott Fischer, the renowned American mountaineer and guide for his ascents to world’s highest mountains without the use of supplemental oxygen. The book Into Thin Air recounted Rob Hall and Scott Fischer’s story of the chilling Everest tragedy in 1996, where 8 climbers were perished, and several were left stranded by storm.

Coincidentally, the teahouse I stayed in played the movie ‘Everest’ on its TV. I sat there in my 5 layers of clothes (yes, I’m quite susceptible to cold), eyes glued to the screen as the movie recounted the struggles leading up to the tragedy. I felt chills running down my spine to my already freezing body. The only warmth I could get before the furnace was set up for the evening was the warmth of fellow trekkers and Sherpas. It was so poignant. The message that we are always at the mercy of the Mountains or Mother Nature never left my mind.

I remember one of Scott Ficher’s famous quotes,

“Life is life — you can go through it cruisin’ or you can go through it bum­min’. It’s your choice.”

His quote fuelled me, as I was starting to feel somewhat weary from the past days of cold and winding paths. Compared to his will and amazing courage, mine paled so much in comparison. As I shivered from the -15 degrees cold and tucked myself in the sleeping bag for the night, I sighed from the day’s reflection. And so, I pushed on.

Day 8: Loubuche to Gorek Shep (5,170m) to EBC (5,364m)

The Push Mentally, Physically, Emotionally

This was one of the toughest days. After breakfast with the girls at 6am, we set off at 7am towards Gorek Shep (5,170 metres). My body was used to the aches on my shoulders and back as I trudged on. I skipped over rocks and pebbles that filled the gravel trail on my way to EBC. I had to be extra careful as these pebbles could be sneaky in causing a fall when you grow complacent from tiredness or missed looking out on your path. My fellow travellers and I egged one another on, each pushing the other to continue and not give up.

See you at the top! We said to one another. Soon, we were moving at different paces. I was a tat slower than the rest as I wanted to take photos (lol) and my feet was also started to weigh heavier. Soon, I was greeted by an orange sign that says Way To Everest B.C. My inner voice did a somersault and punched its fist in the air. I’m approaching!

About 2-3 hours on, I turned a corner and realised I had finally ARRIVED. A wave of emotions hit me suddenly, and tears welled up in my eyes. It was like a source of electrifying feeling gradually emitted from my heart out to every atom of my body. It dawned on me that just months ago, I was flipping through pages of articles, eagerly eating up any information I could find on EBC. Fast forward 8 days later, I had crossed 130km of unknown and surprisingly arduous terrain to reach this pinnacle moment.

“There, there is my moment of peace. It’s just the cold howling wind, my breathing, and my heart pounding. The prayer flags cheer in my triumph.”

I looked around, the different people from all walks of life sharing the celebratory atmosphere with me. There’s the ex-US female solder who had been through war, the entrepreneur mother of two, the X-ray tech who recently quit his job and was travelling the world, and the retiree who’s a grandfather of three. The air was suddenly euphoric and magical.

I smiled as I looked around, hikers with looks of relief and elation. I looked at myself and asked, then who am I? 

My heart felt a thump, like an answer knocking against the chambers. I guess I will always be, the one who seeks.

Day 9: Gorek Shep to Kalapattar (5,545m)

The Highest Point In My Life

I woke up in the morning in shivers. A routine I got used to in attempting to adapt to the cold. My night was plagued with dry coughs (called the Khumbu cough from the dry and cold air), running nose, fever and chills. I recalled one of the hikers I met who shook her head and rejected the side-trek to Kalapathar after feeling exhausted from EBC. That echoed in my ears till the morning.

After breakfast, I somehow let my body decide. It navigated itself as I hugged my fellow hikers and bidded them goodbye, each parting ways. I had decided to scale higher and headed to Kalapathar, while the rest descended. Yet again, part of me started to wonder if I made the right choice.

A height above EBC? I must be crazy. Ram and I entered into an area filled with piles and piles and piles of sand dunes. It was only when I was standing in the middle of rocky sand dunes that a wee bit of panic started to kick in for me. Some time had passed, and the sunlight seem to get dimmer. Ram paused in his tracks, appearing somewhat calm but I could see his head was turning left to right, navigating where to head to next. At a glance in panoramic view, you wouldn’t be able to tell where to go, as the horizon stretched across similar plains and your vision is blocked from dunes after dunes. I dragged my crazy a** and told myself to take one step at a time. Let’s just see where this goes. 

“I calmed myself down and just took in the experience of being lost.”

I was suddenly present to where I was standing, perched on top of a rock with dry, rocky plains. It felt as if my life’s moments were concentrated in that singular point. I suddenly felt a wave of gratitude washed over me. I continued climbed up and down countless sand dunes, and I trusted that Ram would know his way. One side step after another, one rocky dunes to another, we finally navigated our way out.

The sun was setting and it was in time for me to catch the sunset. I conjured what was remaining of my strength and climbed to the peak of Kalapthar, bracing the freezing cold for the moment to arrive. I couldn’t believe I was standing at a height above EBC. This was the highest point I have ever stood in my entire life.

Soon, the golden hues befall on the peaks of the mountains. It was absolutely stunning beyond words. I had not seen such phenomenon in my life before.

“I stood there in the freezing cold, basking in the glory of the sun. I have no regrets now.”

In that split moment as the sun was taking its time to cast its glow, once again, the atmosphere was still. The wind whispering to my ears a secret message and filled my heart with gratitude.

Day 10: Dzonglha to Cho La Pass (5,368m) to Gokyo Ri (5,330m)

Standing on Life’s Edge

En route to Gokyo Ri, I had to trek to Cho La pass. My legs were swaddling through the thick layers of snow floor and every step had to be cautious. Ram kept a watchful eye on me, as I didn’t have the right shoes nor the experience walking on this icy path. Plus, we eventually had to navigate some icy and slippery rocks that if you didn’t pay enough attention, a slip and fall would be imminent. I fell at least twice when the tip of my hiking boots touched the slightest of the icy path. Ram stayed by my side and held my hands so tightly. I had to lean completely on him to get through this path.

Don’t be deceived by the smile in the picture. By the time I crossed it, I was drenched in sweat as the morbid thought of falling backwards and hitting my head on a rock kept replaying in my head. Ram really saved my life in catching me ever so timely.

With a huge sigh of relief, I carried on my way to Gokyo Ri. It felt like I stepped into paradise. My breath stills. My eyes in a daze. This was probably one of the top views I have ever seen in my life.

Ok fine, it’s really hard to choose which view was the best for this trip! The clear blue waters of Gokyo lakes were what caught my eyes when I researched at the start of the year. And there I was. Finally able to witness the spectacular blue lakes in person.

Gokyo Lakes are freshwater lakes with water flowing from numerous glaciers and streams at the highest elevations of 4,700-5,000 metres. Many peaks are visible from Gokyo Ri, such as Makalu (8,485m), Mount Everest (8,848 m), Lhotse (8,516m), and Cho Oyu (8,201m). It felt as if time had frozen as I sat at the peak, with the colour flags encircling me. Almost like a sacred boundary. It feels as if no camera or photos can do justice to the fierce beauty.

Days 11 - 12: Gokyo Ri to Dole to Namche Bazaar

A Different Self Walking Down

The real decent seem to begin. My journey down felt therapeutic. Almost like a part of me was greeting and bidding goodbye simultaneously to the nature and trees that might have welcomed me before. My legs took lead in skipping one step down after another, almost in a casual manner. I crossed paths with trekkers heading up, their faces eager and trepidations. I smiled secretly to myself, and realised I had graduated from a small part of the Himalayas.

Such a contrast from the city girl who wore 4 layers of clothes when she started out on Day 1. Most of all, I’m immensely humbled by the Himalayans and their down-to-earth, peaceful, joyful attitude towards life. Most of them transporting heavy and oversized loads of materials up the steep, mountainous terrain as a livelihood. The mystery of their strength will always fascinate me.

Days 13-14: Namche Bazaar to Lukla to Kathmandu

Completion to a Life Changing Journey

What chances. I bumped into the fellow Singaporean at Namche Bazaar. Within a short span of not meeting each other for 4 days, we caught up with many stories of our descent, each taking a different path, of different turns and outcomes.

As I concluded my personal odyssey and sat on the plane from Lukla to the bustling, chaotic city of Kathmandu, I reflected. How apt this is, the many paths we take are a reflection of our daily lives, where each of us has our own varied journeys and experiences.

“Somehow, we converge in one way or another, in the human experience of breaking personal boundaries.”

It feels as if this is life’s key denominator. At the end of the day, it’s what breaks us out of our shells, our barriers, to reach personal triumphs, regardless of epic or minuscule proportions. What’s underlying is the importance you place in chasing after that spark.

Mine started with the glimpse of a video, an article, a whisper of the wind, and down the rabbit hole I went. More than 200,000 steps later, this experience shaped me in many different ways. A piece of the Himalayas will remain etched and imprinted in me, always.

***

This is my first piece of a longer story to commemorate and celebrate an epic journey I embarked on. I hope you enjoyed reading this post. Share with me in the comments section what sparks you picked up in my journey and what sparks you would like to seek in your own journey!

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